


The Iron Lady

by Dizzojay



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Humor, Impala Feels, Innuendo, POV Impala, Romance, Sensuality, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 08:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 4,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/976875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dizzojay/pseuds/Dizzojay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles and short one-shots to celebrate our sleek and sassy Lady Metallicar.<br/>They are either about the Impala, from her POV or where she is significant to the plot.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Iron Lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I bring you the innermost thoughts and secret of our beautiful 'Iron Lady'.

They say 'life begins at forty'; well, I can tell you that mine began at thirty.

On the day John sprung his big surprise and gave me to Dean.

Dean's eighteenth birthday.

Hey, I'm like any other girl; need the odd paint job, worry about gravity doing it's evil work (you should see my leather upholstery some mornings; sheesh, looks like someone's tried to stick it back on the cow) and, more than anything, I love being pampered.

And I've certainly never been disappointed since Dean snatched up those keys all those years ago like a starving dog snatches a bone.

xxxxx

I'm a classy lady, so I won't be crude and say he services me regularly, but let's just say that thanks to my boy I'm in fine shape for a woman of my vintage.

He lavishes devoted, loving care on me; changing my oil, inflating my tires, and oiling my springs; (well, let's just say my suspension gets tested sometimes so they really need it).

What?

Jealous? Why would I be jealous?

I'm no more jealous of those simpering, peabrained, wide-assed little floozies than I would be of one of Dean's burgers; they're just satisfying a red-blooded man's natural, uh, requirements.

Bitches!

xxxxx

Every day Dean tells me how beautiful I am, and when he gets down and dirty, washing and waxing my bodywork well ... ah, forget it, a woman needs her secrets.

Yes, forty-five I may be, but if I had a step, it would still have a spring in it.

In return I do my level best to give him and Sammy safety, security, warmth and comfort. It's not much, but I know they appreciate it.

People say it's not miles on the clock that matter, it's what's inside you that's precious.

And looking at what sits inside me, I wholeheartedly agree!

xxxxx

end


	2. Eau de Impala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some comforts even the best motels can't provide.

Dean rested his head against the back of his baby's seat and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply of her potent, comforting scent;

The rich essence of old, well maintained leather;

The lingering trace of a recently drained flask of coffee;

A subtle hint of gun oil and lighter fluid;

The faint musk of his sleeping brother's warm body mingled with the sweetly citrus tang of cheap aftershave;

With a smile, Dean wrapped the familiar, intoxicating perfume around him like a blanket.

Yes, a night spent in the Impala wasn't perfect, but it sure as heck came close …

xxxxx

End


	3. Cougar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That Trickster's been at work again. Only this time, Dean doesn't seem to mind terribly …

It had happened in the briefest of moments, but the result was undeniable.

The Impala had simply vanished.

In her place stood a gloriously mature, sassy and extremely beautiful woman. Her long raven-black hair curled loosely over elegant tawny shoulders, and a very little black dress clung wickedly to her slender curves, slipping like liquid silk around the slim contours of her shapely thighs.

Steely grey eyes tilted toward Dean, turning his knees to water. He gaped, wide-eyed and helpless, a bead of drool glistening on his bottom lip.

"Sam," he croaked; "would it be wrong if … ?"

Sam grimaced; "dude, don't even go there."

xxxxx

end


	4. A Mother's Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone's looking after those boys; they just don't know it.

Dean sighed, shifting slightly; soft breaths misting the passenger window as he enjoyed a much-needed nap. He relaxed unconsciously listening to the Impala's engine purring it's soothing lullaby.

When Dean took over driving Sam would get some good shut-eye, she'd see to that.

Working it out perfectly, she would run low on fuel just as they reached a gas station with a decent diner; those boys were looking too lean; they needed a good square meal.

xxxxx

When the yellow-eyed Demon deprived the Winchesters of the most important woman in their life, no-one told him there was another ready and willing to step up to the plate.

xxxxx

end


	5. Femme Fatale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there is a certain lady that Dean just can't keep his hands off ... ;)

Dean leaned over, running expert hands over the sleek contours of her body. Skilfully, lovingly; lingering strokes of well-practiced hands moving smoothly over the firm curves and planes of the proud beauty in front of him; the loving massage proving equally therapeutic to both of them.

As his strong, experienced hands worked their magic, he softly murmured sweet nothings; quiet, reassuring whispers making sure she knew she was the centre of his universe.

Eventually, he stood up, wiping his hands.

"Hey, lookin' good baby," he smiled, "that's enough wax; how about we top up your radiator now?"

xxxxx

end


	6. Roadkill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Impala has a close - very close - encounter of the absurd kind.

The brothers sat in the steaming wreck of the Impala staring in disbelief through the shattered windscreen at an unfortunate moose spreadeagled lifeless across the hood.

Sam glanced shakily at his shell-shocked brother, "Dean, you okay?"

"M-my baby …"

He tried to think of something positive to say … and gave up.

"Look what I did to her … my poor b-baby!"

Sam had to admit - most drivers hit rabbits occasionally, even the odd coyote, but a friggin' moose? Damned Winchester luck!

Dean stared, wet-eyed, at his brother.

"I'm okay, just in case you were wondering!" announced Sam.

xxxxx

End


	7. Who Needs Four Walls?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Chuck so eloquently put it; 'maybe they never really had a roof and four walls but they were never, in fact, homeless.'

I love providing somewhere for my boys to rest their heads. It warms me to my wheel arches to know I give them comfort and security, but it's not easy; I mean, however did they grow so darn big?

Sam always takes the back seat where there's more room, and he sleeps like the dead; hardly ever moves. It's a bit of a strain on my back axle; he's no lightweight, but thankfully Dean takes good care of my suspension.

And knowing what happens when Sam eats a spicy burrito, Dean takes good care of my ventilation too.

xxxxx

Dean's a fidget. And a sprawler. And believe me, those long limbs can sprawl!

I've had teethmarks on my seats and footprints on my roof upholstery, and we've never adequately explained how he got his head stuck under the steering column one night.

But whatever trials and tribulations those boys put me through, my overarching need is to protect them; to shield them from life's horrible realities, and I'll continue to do that without question until the day I'm towed off to the scrapyard.

Now if you'll excuse me, it's time to open the windows. Sam's just unwrapped a burrito.

xxxxx

end


	8. Road to Ruin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If looks could kill ... well, Sam wouldn't be a very healthy boy at all.

First there was a shocked silence, which gradually gave way to the soft creaking groans of settling metal.

Then there was the sharp rattling click as Sam killed the engine.

His head drooped miserably.

For a moment all that could be heard were the harsh breaths of the two men sitting motionless inside the car.

Dean's glare was molten; blazing green eyes that burned with the fury of a thousand suns were fixed unblinking on Sam.

His unspoken anger simmered silently as he glared at his cowering brother from under heavily knotted brows; jaw clenched tight in barely-controlled anger.

Withering under the weight of the scorching indignation shooting in his direction, Sam cringed pathetically; burrowing down into his seat and gnawing his lip in shame.

He could feel the heat of guilt-ridden disgrace, reddening his face, radiating like feverish remorse around the Impala's spacious interior which suddenly felt hot as hell. Hot enough to suffocate anyone within it , hot enough to incinerate an entire forest, hot enough to boil mercury, hot enough to melt steel.

But not hot enough, apparently, to melt the giant snowdrift that Sam had skidded the Impala into.

xxxxx

end


	9. Hell Hath No Fury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just because you love someone dearly doesn't mean you don't take them for granted sometimes. Dean learns an important lesson from a scorned 'woman'.

Sam grimaced as Dean's mighty sneeze peppered the Impala's windshield with a fine mist of snotty spit.

"Dude, really?"

"She knows I'm sick, so she'll forgive me," Dean croaked with a sniff.

Sam looked away in disgust as Dean, out of tissues after his recent cold, snuffled wetly and wiped his nose with his hand, absent-mindedly spreading the resultant snail-trail across his baby's steering wheel.

xxxxx

The Impala was roaring effortlessly along a deserted highway when her problems began.

Hissing and backfiring, after a few moments of pained spluttering, she coasted to a shuddering halt as Dean pulled over onto the verge and leapt out of his poor crippled baby, eyes wide with concern.

After checking the engine, Dean crouched behind the car, peering intently into the tailpipe, convinced there was a blockage until a spontaneous blast of black smoke belched out of the pipe straight into his face.

Job done, her engine fired up smoothly like sweet music.

Standing up, Dean trudged grumpily round the car, coughing nauseously as he slammed the hood and climbed into the driver's side; soot blackened face throwing a sulky glare at Sam through watering green eyes.

Sam grinned broadly; "I think that's called payback dude!"

xxxxx

end


	10. Dead Man Walking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's had to face some horrific foes in his time. This one is far more terrifying than the rest of them put together.

xxxxx

Sam felt sick.

His heart raced, a cold sweat glistened across his furrowed brow.

Slippery palms gripped the steering wheel as he thought numbly of the dire fate awaiting him.

He'd never been so scared.

He turned slowly into the parking lot, pulling up outside the motel and stared forlornly through the grubby window of room eighteen.

What a crappy place to die!

Taking a deep breath to fortify himself, he switched on the defcon one puppydog face hoping he could, perhaps, engender a shred of mercy?

No chance.

Not when he had to tell Dean he'd scratched the Impala.

xxxxx

end


	11. Impala RN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Impala is so much more than a car

"I'm sorry sir, your insurance doesn't register on our system;" The hospital receptionist handed the card to Sam with an embarrassed smile.

He returned the smile with an understanding shrug, gently guiding Dean, his concussion and his cracked ribs out towards the waiting Impala.

Cradling his fragile chest, Dean slipped gingerly into his baby's passenger seat, and slowly relaxed into the comforting embrace of her familiar upholstery as Sam started her engine. Within minutes, her soothing purr had lulled the casualty into a restful, healing doze.

Who needed a nurse or a hospital bed when you had the complete package with you every day?

xxxxx

end


	12. The Hunters Hunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some skanky spirit really knows how to hurt Dean; it's going to suffer so much when this hunt is done.

The Winchesters stumbled backwards, horror-struck as the huge black shape inched toward them, thrumming and shuddering with each menacing growl that erupted from it.

Moving smoothly toward its prey, the growl rose into a furious roar.

Heart pounding, Dean squinted through the blinding glare of two disc-like orbs, blazing white like twin suns illuminating the darkness around them, and flinched as Sam gripped his elbow.

"C'mon man," Sam coaxed.

"No," Dean's anguished face twisted into a snarl of grim determination; "I'm not leavin' her!"

"Dean," Sam snapped; "yeah, it sucks, the Impala's possessed, but we can't help her if we're dead!

xxxxx

end


	13. job Well Dung

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchesters' latest job doesn't go entirely according to plan, but Dean's determined that the Impala shouldn't suffer as a result. Sammy? Now that's another matter!

Sam's nose wrinkled in disgust.

"I don't mean to be blunt or nothin' but, man, you stink."

Dean glared; "back at ya compost-boy."

"I mean;" snarled Dean, "what kinda spirit throws people into a dungheap?"

"The pissed spirit of a farmhand who doesn't wanna be ganked," Sam replied.

Approaching the Impala, Dean thrust an arm across Sam's chest to block his way.

"We're not getting in her covered in this - well - shit."

"We haven't got any other clothes, what're we supposed to do?"

Dean tugged his T shirt off by way of a demonstration.

"C'mon, peel - my baby don't do dung."

xxxxx

Sam gaped, slightly stunned by the bluntness of his brother's instruction; "you are joking; you're not seriously suggesting we sit in the car together, stark naked?"

His throat convulsed as he gagged at the thought.

Dean had already stepped out of his jeans and was casually threading his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers.

"Woah, woah, WOAH!"… Sam gasped in panic; "I don't suppose your baby does sweaty ass cheeks either - surely we can leave these on?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh, alright Samantha - sorry, I ain't got a screen for you to change behind."

xxxxx

The Impala rolled onto the highway, and Sam burned with embarrassment as he glanced across at his brother who looked worryingly comfortable sitting in the Impala in just his underwear.

He would have welcomed a blunt instrument and sweet oblivion.

"What if someone sees us?" Sam hissed, fidgeting miserably as the Impala's leather upholstery stuck to his bare skin.

"Who's gonna see us?" Dean snorted, "we're out at the ass end of nowhere; the nearest town is way over ther …"

His voice trailed away as a sign appeared ahead.

'ROAD CLOSED AHEAD; DIVERSIONARY ROUTE THROUGH CITY CENTRE'

…

…

…

"Dean I hate you so much…"

xxxxx

end


	14. Think Positive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are having a bad, bad night; Sam tries to help ... but, well, see for yourself

Sam watched the Impala listing forlornly on her flat tyre and listened to the muffled curses emanating from her trunk where Dean rummaged for his tools.

"freakin' ass end of nowhere," he moaned, "freezin' cold, middle of the friggin' night, a pissed wendigo on our tail an' we get a sonofabitch puncture; fan-crappy-tastic,"

Sam smiled weakly and shrugged, "well, at least things can't get any worse!"

A thunderclap rumbled across the cloud-laden sky, and the boys glanced upwards just in time to see the heavens open.

Dean glared murderously through the downpour, as rain dripped off his nose …

"You just HAD to say it!"

xxxxx

end


	15. Sleeping Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That's another fine mess Dean's gotten himself into. Sam's POV.

We found it while we were checking out one of the hidden vaults here in the batcave; the last thing we expected to see.

Stored under a dusty, moth-eaten tarpaulin; it was a spinning wheel, dating back to the Salem Witch Trials.

I'd just turned round for a second to catalogue the thing, literally just a second, and then I heard Dean hit the ground like a damn great sack of potatoes.

He just HAD to touch it. Like a freakin' three year old, he can't leave anything alone.

He pricked his finger on the spindle and …

Sleeping, um, Beauty?

xxxxx

Sleeping Beauty?

That's just a fairy story, surely. I mean, Sleeping Beauty was female for a start; and I'm pretty sure she didn't snore, or drool, or mumble huskily about someone called Maxine.

Perhaps I'm thinking too literally; perhaps the curse isn't fussy about the gender of its victims.

And beauty? I suppose you could say Dean's a decent-looking guy. Well, he thinks so anyway.

Only true love's kiss can break the curse, so I need to find someone who's devoted to Dean, who values him above everyone else, someone who would die for him and ...

Holy crap - I just described me!

xxxxx

I don't think the curse works with sibling 'love' and anyway, Dean would murder me in cold blood if he woke up with me smooching over him. Perhaps it's not literally a 'kiss' that he needs; maybe a handshake or a manly hug would do the trick instead?

I could never be that lucky.

Otherwise I'll need to find someone he loves unconditionally, who loves him back just as much. Someone who means the world to him and who he would want to spend the rest of his life with ...

Hmmm ...

I wonder if I could get the Impala down here?

xxxxx

end


	16. Summer Lovin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby has a summer romance ...

xxxxx

I just can’t take my headlamps off of him. I mean, the curves of those fenders; the cut of his side panels and, oh … the way his silver paintwork glistens. And then he winked his hi-beams at me. Me!!

I’m giddy like I’ve just rolled off the assembly line; I tell you, if this dude doesn’t get a girl’s brake fluid boiling, then nothing will.

Be still my beating pistons.

Of course, Sammy thought Dean was mad when he got those tickets to San Diego Comic Con. I don’t quite know HOW Dean managed to get tickets to San Diego Comic Con, but what the hell; if anyone’s earned a nice summer treat, those two boys have. We could never have guessed that this event would have turned out to be as much of a treat for me as it was for them.

When Dean drove me into the parking lot, that’s when I saw him.

Fantasticar.

And fantastic is the word.

He’s parked on display outside the venue entrance. Standing there on his branded plinth, all gleaming and huge and gorgeous, and when my boy parked me right opposite him, I really and truly thought my radiator might explode  
.  
Oh my, I need to suck in my undercarriage – are my rust spots showing???

Must look my best. I make sure my doors don’t creak when my boys open them. Dean’s still looking back at me and scratching his head when they walk into the venue.

xxxxx

I’m in love.

He’s so charming, so wonderful; so big and powerful; twenty thousand horsepower of gleaming, turbo-powered gorgeousness.

Have you seen those axles? Asdfgjgjttjskxkfnlkflnfssddjskj!!!!

That radiator grille; it’s positively indecent; and those tyres … dear lord, I can’t even …

I know it’s Summer, but it can’t be THAT hot.

xxxxx

It’s just not possible. He’s delightful and witty as well as gorgeous. He called me beautiful, elegant - a classic. I’m surrounded by giggling hatchbacks and posturing SUV’s and he doesn’t even spare them a glance; he’s only got headlamps for me. I’m kind of dying just a little bit right now – in the best way possible, of course.

Or at least I was until I saw two figures walking toward me.

It’s Sam carrying a plastic bag stuffed with merchandise and Dean wearing a wibbly wobbly timey wimey T shirt. And for the first time in my life, I’m not pleased to see them.

No, you can’t come back yet. There must be more for you to see.

No, go away; I won’t leave. Sorry Dean, you can turn the key as much as you like, I’m not starting. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving him. Not yet.

Dean’s sitting in my drivers’ seat looking perplexed as my engine grinds and splutters. I know he’s worried, and I’ve never, ever, in my entire life, defied Dean, but just this once, I don’t want to leave.

No please, not yet …

Dean seems to have given up trying to start my engine, he’s stepping out and … oh God, he’s lifting my hood!! NO! I can’t go showing all my working parts in front of my Mr Fantastic. Oh, how embarrassing!

Without thinking, I slam my hood shut, and narrowly miss chopping Dean’s fingers off in the process. Oh no, this is so wrong; I’m so sorry Dean honey, but please. Dean, you know me better than anyone in the world, please understand …

xxxxx

It takes a couple of minutes, but I see the moment the penny drops. Dean knows me too well. He turns to stare at Fantasticar and then at me. Then he crouches down in front of me, giving a knowing smile.

“You know he’s not good enough for you, right?”

I knew there was a reason why I love Dean more than life itself.

Patting my fender, he stands and turns to Sam.

“C’mon Sam, let’s go and eat. We can walk to that diner downtown.”

I watch as Sam gives that hesitant shrug that he always gives when he agrees with Dean but he’s not quite sure why, and smile inwardly as he tosses his bag onto my back seat and closes my passenger door.

“You know, Sammy, I feel like a movie too,” Dean adds; “there’s some crappy thing about zombies on at that movie theatre we passed on the way here.”

Of course, he gets the patented Sam eye roll, but it’s not a refusal.

Turning to walk out of the parking lot, Dean hesitates. I see him gesture to Sam to wait and watch as he jogs across the parking lot toward Fantasticar.

He leans over Fantasicar’s massive hood.

“You take good care of her,” he growls quietly, but loud enough for me to hear; “otherwise I’ll snap your steering wheel off and shove it up your tailpipe!”

He turns away without a second glance and winks at me.

“See ya later Baby,” he smiles; “much later.”

Bye bye Dean, I love you.

Don’t rush back!

xxxxx

end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case you're not aware (because I wasn't) this is Fantasticar - the vehicle driven by The Fantastic Four!


	17. Sucks to be You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the little flaws that make her special ...

The Impala watched the other cars as she hurtled along the highway; all of them far newer than her, with gleaming metallic paintwork and more whizz-bang special effects than a Spielberg movie.

She could see them sneering at her rust-spotted chrome and the boxy lines of her chassis; smirking, as they passed, at the agricultural growl of her fifty-year-old engine.

There was no whistle from lego shoved in their heating vents, or persistent rattle from a toy soldier jammed in their ashtrays.

No-one small and lonely had scratched their names into those vehicles' door trim.

They were pristine. They were perfect.

She pitied them.

xxxxx

end


	18. Impala Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our lovely lady Impala is having a little introspective moment. Includes suggestive imagery and more double entendres than you can shake a stick at!

He's wearing those jeans I like; the really old faded ones with the frayed hole across the left knee. You know, the ones that are a little saggy round the rear, and ride down when he bends over to reach into my engine compartment.

In fact, they're working their way down right now as he's leaning over to check my solenoids.

Not that I'm looking or anything, but there's a little black smear of oil across the middle of his back from the last time he tried to pull them up.

Don't worry honey; trust me, they're fine where they are.

xxxxx

You know, having Dean getting down and dirty, handling all my moving parts is just … well …

It's a very intense and personal moment for both of us.

He's standing there in front of my open hood, all sweaty and grimy; covered in oil and road dust, wiping his hands on his T-shirt.

I'm mesmerised by the way his biceps flex when he's tightening up my nuts and bolts; and the way his tongue peeks out between those plush pink lips when he's topping up my fluids.

Oh dear, please excuse me … but I think they may need topping up some more!

xxxxx

His hands are so strong, so deft. He handles my components as if they're something precious, and he talks to me all the while; telling me how beautiful I am, murmuring in that voice … heck, it's like drowning in melted chocolate.

He's measuring my oil levels - he's so masterful with that dipstick - and I study the strong line of his jaw down the long, sweeping curve of his throat, down the centre of that broad, firm chest, down … down …

*Sigh*

A lady's gotta have her secrets, okay? And, surely you can't blame me for breaking down on purpose occasionally, can you?

xxxxx

end


	19. Hot Stuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby's temperature control is on the blink. With good reason.

I don't need this at my age.

That manticore hunt was a fiasco; the boys didn't know its spit was corrosive.

Well, until they got sprayed and their clothes started to sizzle.

And now I've got their sweaty, butt-naked hides parked on my bench seat as we head back to the bunker.

Seriously, I haven't seen those little asses for over thirty years. It's killing my cooling system.

Who'd have thought a car could blush? My radiator's hissing like Old-goddamned-Faithful.

And … BOOM … thar she blows!

I'm so sorry Dean, but at least I've managed to reach a garage so you can go and …

Oh.

xxxxx

end


	20. A Winchester Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a Winchester Christmas meal, and everyone's included - even if you don't fit around the dinner table.

The Winchesters' dinner table told the story of a well-enjoyed Christmas meal.

Piles of empty plates and half-drained glasses surrounded a turkey carcass, picked clean by the three figures who sat around it, contentedly nursing full bellies and blossoming hangovers.

Castiel smiled crookedly as Sam let out a soft burp.

The air of sated contentment was abruptly disturbed as Dean stood, quietly excusing himself and picking up his beer bottle before leaving the room.

Outside, he carefully poured a quart of premium grade Pennzoil into Baby's engine and tapped his bottle against her open hood.

"Merry Christmas Baby," he murmured.

xxxxx

end


	21. A Woman Scorned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone knows that Dean loves musclecars, but not everyone appreciates the fact.

"Baby please I'm sorry."

"Please Baby. Let us in, it's pouring out here."

"Dean what the hell? Has the lock broken? C'mon, it's blowing a goddamn gale out here."

"Newsflash Sam, I know. I'm wet too. There's nothing wrong with the lock; it's Baby, she's shut us out."

"She's what?"

"Please Baby, let us in. I'll top up your oil with premium grade."

...

"I'll give you a full wash and wax. Do your upholstery too."

...

"Baby, I'm so sorry about the Buick. I promise I'll never whistle at another car ever again."

...

"Honestly, Baby. It was a pile of trash compared to you."

...

'click'

xxxxx

end


	22. The Car's the Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the weekly challenge on Spn-BigPretzel community on Livejournal. The challenge was:  
> Put a Supernatural character or characters of your choice in a reality TV show, either an existing one, or one of your own invention.

***CUE CAMERA ONE***

“Hey there!”

“It’s Rocky Hotrod here and welcome to this week’s edition of ‘Jazz up my Jalopy’.”

***DRUM ROLL***

“And in this week’s edition, we’re going to see ‘Dean’. Dean was nominated by his ultra-cool British buddy, who only calls himself Fergus.”

Fergus says; ‘My dear friend Dean and I have shared many wonderful moments together. We’ve been to Hell and back … literally.’

‘It makes me feel very sad that he drives around in this bloody old crate that’s about fifty years old and sounds like a tractor. The rust spots on the damn thing are all that’s holding it together and it’s about as aerodynamic as a bingo hall'.

'The doors creak, the aircon whistles and it’s still got a cassette player, I mean – A SODDING CASSETTE PLAYER! Rocky, I’m sure Dean would be thrilled and delighted if you could help him to … JAZZ UP HIS JALOPY!’

“Okay, I’m told by Fergus that I would find Dean having breakfast in Mal’s Diner here in downtown Lebanon. So let’s go and surprise him …”

xxxxx

Sam frowned as he watched the evening news.

‘Well-known TV presenter Rocky Hotrod is recovering in hospital tonight after an unknown assailant in Lebanon, Kansas, tried to impale him on his own wrench.’

“That’s horrible, the poor guy,” Sam sighed. “What a terrible world we live in.”

“Sure is,” replied Dean with a derisory snort; “he wanted to put a rear spoiler on the Impala and paint her gold.”

xxxxx

end


	23. Baby's Big Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby loves Dean more than life itself, but sometimes - just sometimes - she has to show him who's boss. Baby's POV.

BABY'S BIG DAY

xxxxx

It's been two days, and Dean hasn't figured out what's wrong with me yet.

He's been rummaging under my hood – not that I'm complaining mind – tightening whatever he can tighten, replacing and oiling things, and he still can't understand why I'm not starting.

Dean honey, you're not that dense. Just think about it; you obviously haven't grasped the gravity of the situation.

You can tinker and fiddle as much as you like, don't let me stop you. But it's my birthday soon, and until I see you booking my platinum grade valet, complete with tyre polish and leather treatment, I'm not budging!

xxxxx

end


	24. Numbers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After her fiftieth birthday, the Impala reflects on the important numbers in her life. A double drabble.

NUMBERS

xxxxx

Like any other car, my life is ruled by numbers.

I was built in 1967, so it's been fifty years. Fifty years on the open road since I first rolled off the forecourt. In that time I've had three owners and countless trips that have chalked up over two hundred thousand miles. I lost count after the clock ticked round the second time. It's my age, y'know?

I cost two thousand, two hundred bucks when John Winchester bought me; I have an eight valve engine, a three twenty seven, four barrel carburetor, a top speed of a hundred mph and I pull two seventy five horsepower.

I'm a big ol' bird, with a hundred and nineteen inch wheelbase, and no, I'm not telling you how much I weigh – a girl's gotta have some mystery, after all!

Over the years, I've had two hundred and twenty four tyres, one hundred and ninety two headlamps, seven timing belts, three gearboxes, and one complete rebuild.

But, all things considered, there's only one number I care about. That number has kept me on the road, and gives my life meaning. It's the number I love more than life itself.

Two.

And those two are walking toward me right now.

xxxxx

end


	25. Dream a Little Dream of ...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does Baby do when she's parked up in the bunker's garage in the dark watches of the night …

DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF …

xxxxx

Against the distant strains of a soaring guitar riff, Baby's tyres were soundless as they glided along the marble causeway.

The amber glow of a thousand flaming torches along the route reflected in her gleaming black paintwork as she coasted elegantly towards her ultimate destination.

Ahead of her, on a velvet-coated dais, stood Dean; resplendent in a scandalously revealing toga, a sinful smirk playing on his alluring lips. A laurel crown rested jauntily in his tawny head as he beckoned her toward him and the terracotta urn of premium grade Pennzoil that stood beside him.

Whoever said that cars can't dream?

xxxxx

end


End file.
